


To Sleep, Perchance To Dream

by Doodlelupin



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Anxiety, F/M, He/Him and They/Them Pronouns for Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Insomnia, M/M, Martin Blackwood Has ADHD, Mentioned Jane Prentiss, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Nightmares, Nonbinary Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Polyamorous Martin Blackwood/Sasha James/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Worms, assume all my characters have adhd and are trans lmao, i guess?, mainly just comfort lmao, nsfw implied in chapter 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:06:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27538054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doodlelupin/pseuds/Doodlelupin
Summary: Martin's always had a bit of trouble falling asleep. Having his partners around definitely helps, but it's not a perfect solution.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Sasha James, Martin Blackwood/Sasha James/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood/Tim Stoker
Comments: 13
Kudos: 103





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> the name is a Hamlet quote because I am a Hamlet stannie there is very little relation to the actual fic lmao

Martin adjusted the covers, sighing softly. He was having a hard time getting to sleep. His insomnia came and went with seemingly no pattern. Sometimes he could fall asleep in a few minutes; other times it took hours, and even when he finally drifted off he’d wake up every hour for no obvious reason. 

Obviously the whole...worm situation hadn’t helped. His anxiety levels had skyrocketed. His eyes were constantly darting to the corners of every room he entered, certain he’d see a writhing, wriggling little demon about to pounce. He shuddered just thinking about it. Knowing that his room in the Institute was pretty much worm-proof did help, though. And when he wasn’t sleeping at the Institute, his protective instincts could override his anxiety. He could calm himself by focusing on what he’d do to protect the people he loved.

He had found that having something to try to concentrate on helped. With his ADHD, sometimes he couldn’t quiet his mind enough to sleep. If he focused on soft music or a story in his head, he often found sleep came much easier. His insomnia wasn’t cured by any means; there were plenty of nights he would have to reset the 15 minute sleep timer over and over on his playlist until he gave up and left it off. But for the most part, it helped. At the very least, it cured the gnawing boredom.

His favourite thing to concentrate on was the sound of breathing. Not his own; he would forget what he was doing and his mind would wander. Listening to one of his partners’ breathing, on the other hand, worked like a charm. He could try to match their breathing patterns and listen to the different tones of their snores (even though they all denied snoring). Their presence alone made him feel safer, which also helped.

Tonight, though, it wasn’t helping. He’d already mimicked Tim’s breathing pattern, then Sasha’s; Jon was still up. Martin had also tried listening to Jon’s movements from the other room. He knew Jon was doing his best to be quiet, but his flat did have thin walls. Martin could hear him muttering softly every once in a while, along with the squeak of his chair, sipping and setting down his glass of water, the flipping of pages, and his fingers tapping on the desk. Martin was trying to imagine visuals for all the sounds. It wasn’t very difficult. He knew Jon pretty well.

At that moment, for instance, Jon was tapping the desk with their pen and sighing. They were probably sitting with their left leg crossed over their right, their left elbow on the desk and left hand supporting their chin. They were definitely tapping their pen with their right hand onto the edge of the desk. If they hadn’t been tapping it on the desk, they would be tapping it on either the file in front of them or their laptop, both of which made different noises, less sharp than the edge of the desk. Their brow was probably furrowed in either frustration or tired confusion. Their hair would be pulled back into a bun. They couldn’t concentrate with their hair in their face.

Martin glanced at the clock. 3:00 am. He sighed. If they were both still up at 3:30, he’d make Jon come to bed. If he couldn’t make himself sleep, at least he could make them. They could wait a bit longer though. Get a little more work done. Martin was comfortable. He was lying on his side on the left side of the bed, with Tim’s shoulder against his chest and one of Tim’s legs intertwined with his own. Tim was nice and warm. The room was pretty cold. Jon’s flat was always a little too cold in the winter, and too warm in the summer. Bad insulation.

Martin was bored. He grabbed his mobile and put on his playlist, making sure his volume was as low as it could go without being off. He didn’t want to wake Tim or Sasha. He listened to the music, trying extra hard to focus on the lyrics so his mind wouldn’t wander. The songs were warm and familiar. Comforting. Safe.

He heard the playlist stop. It had already been 15 minutes? He was very tired. He was quite certain he’d fall asleep any moment now. He blinked drowsily.

A worm. On the edge of the blanket. Directly in front of his face.

He pushed himself backwards out of the bed and onto his feet in less than a second, gasping for breath, clutching at his chest to put his arms between himself and the worm. 

Had he dreamt it? He couldn’t be sure that he was awake. The picture of it was so vivid in his mind. It could be in the bed. With Tim and Sasha.

“Worm!” He gasped.

“Huh?” Tim asked groggily. Sasha shoved herself up, grabbing Tim’s arm and pulling him out of the bed on her side. “What?” he asked again, still half-asleep. “What’s happening?”

“Worm?” Sasha repeated urgently, staring intently at Martin.

“I-I-” He could barely breathe. “It-On the bed?” He stammered. Sasha grabbed her phone and turned on the torch, pointing it at the bed. “Near the pillow?” Sasha pointed the light that way but they couldn’t see anything. She took a deep breath and pulled the cover back. Nothing. Martin let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding in. 

“I- Oh, god. Sorry. I’m sorry.” Martin pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I was dreaming.” He hissed. He could feel his face flushing. He’d woken them up for nothing.

“Martin,” Sasha said, her voice soothing. “Don’t apologize. You didn’t know.”

“Sasha’s right, nothing to apologize for.” Tim had finally woken up enough to grasp the situation. “Come here, babe.” He held his arms out, walking around the end of the bed. Martin fell into Tim’s arms, his own arms kept tight against himself. He was still shaking. Sasha turned off the torch and joined the embrace.

“I’m- still sorry.” Martin couldn’t stop apologizing. He felt awful for waking them up. He felt ridiculous. Tim rubbed his back.

“Nothing to apologize for.” He repeated soft, but resolute.

“Absolutely nothing.” Sasha agreed. Martin could feel her nod against his shoulder. He tried to believe they meant it. They stood like that for a while, Martin wrapped up tight, safe in his partners' arms. He copied Sasha’s slow, even breathing and slowly felt his heart rate return to normal. 

Tim yawned.

"Wanna get back to bed, love?" Sasha asked gently as they pulled away, Tim leaning heavily on his shoulder and Sasha taking Martin's hand in hers. Martin had stopped shaking, which was good. Still, he hesitated.

"Um." he started. He could feel his face going scarlet once more. He was glad the light was off.

"What is it?" Sasha asked. Martin looked at the ground.

"Hey," Tim said, gently tilting Martin's head up with a finger under his chin. Martin met his eyes. "What is it?" He asked.

"I-" he didn't want to say it out loud. He closed his eyes. "I'm scared there's something in the bed and I don't want to get under the blanket without checking first but I don't- I'm- I'm a grown man! And-" he blurted out before he could stop himself.

"Martin! Hey, hey." Tim cut him off, his voice low and soothing.

"Darling," Sasha laughed lovingly as she brushed a curl out of his face."You're allowed to be scared. You were locked in your own house and tormented by a worm-hive-woman for 2 weeks! Honestly, if you weren't scared, I'd be concerned." That got a giggle from Martin.

"Right. So let's check this bed for any spooky happenings and get back to sleep.” Tim concluded. “Ah!" He cut Martin off before he could respond. "No apologizing." Martin opened his mouth again but before he could speak Sasha kissed him on the tip of the nose. 

"No apologizing." she scolded.

"Alright, alright." Martin laughed. "Let's get this done so Timmy can get some sleep." 

"Attaboy." Tim grinned, patting Martin’s chest. Sasha turned on the lamp on her side of the bed. It was less harsh than the overhead light. She pulled the blanket off the bed. Tim took one corner of it and she held the other. They held it up and looked at both sides.

"Looks clear to me." Sasha said. Tim and Martin hummed in agreement. They did the same with the top sheet and gave the bed a quick once over. They checked the pillows.

"All clear." Tim said, flopping onto the bed. Martin sat on the edge with his back to him. Tim pushed himself up with a grunt, resting his chin on Martin's shoulder and draping his arms around him. "Lie down, babe." He murmured. Martin restrained himself from apologizing again and did as he was told, lying down on his back. Tim pulled the blanket up around them as Sasha climbed in on Martin's other side. Martin rested both of his hands on his chest. Tim slung an arm around his waist, resting his head against Martin's shoulder. Sasha kissed Martin's forehead before settling in, resting her hand on top of Martin's, curling up beside him. Martin smiled. How'd he get so lucky? What were the odds that his partners would be 2 of the most- hang on. 2? Martin groaned.

“What’s wrong now?” Tim asked. He didn’t sound irritated, more of a drowsy curiosity.

“Jon’s still up.”

“Leave him. He’ll come to bed when he’s tired.” Tim yawned.

“No he won’t.” Martin scoffed. 

“You’re right, he won't. I’ll go get him.” She made no motion to get up. Neither did Martin.

“See the thing is-” Sasha started.

“We just got comfortable!” Martin finished. They were silent for a moment. The silence was broken by a soft snore from Tim. They laughed, Martin trying his hardest not to shake Tim awake.

“I agree, Tim.” Sasha grinned. “Jon’s a big boy. They’ll be alright for one night.”

“Yeah,” Martin yawned. He rested his head against Sasha’s. “They’ll be alright.”

“Mhm,” Sasha hummed sleepily. “We’re alright.”

“We’re alright.” Martin smiled. He drifted off, enjoying pleasant, wormless dreams.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon gets a little talking-to.

“Mx. Sims, if I walk out here and you’re sitting at your desk-” Tim called, stretching as he stepped out of the bedroom. He heard a muffled groan in reply. Good sign. He peeked into the living room. Jon was curled up on the couch under a throw blanket. He looked miserable. He had a bandana or a scarf wrapped around his right hand. Sometimes when he wrote or typed for too long his wrist got sore. Tim guessed he’d left his wrist brace at the Institute and forgot to take the makeshift one off before sleeping.

“Why did you sleep on the couch? This is  _ your  _ flat!” Tim sat down at the end of the couch.

“Didn’t want to wake you,” Jon muttered, wincing at the volume. Tim rested a hand on Jon’s leg. He lowered his voice.

“What time did you end up passing out?”

“Erm.” Jon said sheepishly. He sat up, rubbing his eyes. 

“ _ Jon _ .” Tim prompted.

“ _ Tim _ .” Jon mocked. He sighed. “I don’t know, 5 or 6?”

“Jon, it’s 7am.” Tim glared. 

“Uh huh.” He replied flatly. He was tired. He was allowed to be a bit of a bitch today.

“I’m telling Martin.” Tim said, jumping to his feet.

“No!” Jon hissed, chasing him out of the room.

“Oh, Martin!” Time called in a sing-song voice. He looked into the bedroom. Sasha was buttoning up her shirt. Martin wasn’t there. Tim pushed off the doorway, launching down the hall before Jon could catch him.

“Don’t you dare!” Jon whispered loudly, running after him.

“Honey, guess what time your darling boyfriend got to bed last night!” Tim called in the same sing-song tone as he burst into the kitchen. Martin looked up from the eggs he was making just in time to let go of the handle of the frying pan. Tim grabbed Martin to slow himself down, twisting behind him to place Martin between himself and Jon. Jon skidded to a stop in the doorway. Martin had his arms crossed, staring at him sternly. Tim peeked over Martin’s shoulder and stuck out his tongue at Jon. Jon scowled back.

“What time, Jon?” Martin asked. Jon sighed, looking at the floor.

“6.” He muttered, defeated.

“6?” Martin repeated, scandalized. “Jon!”

“I know, I know.” He said, irritated. “There’s not much I can do about it now.”

“You could take the day off work.” Martin suggested pointedly. Tim silently took the spatula out of Martin’s hand so he could tend to the eggs while they talked.

“You know I can't.” Jon said.

“I know you  _ won't _ .” Martin sighed. “Fine. Watch your tone today, though. You get snappy when you’re tired.”

“I do  _ not _ !” Jon snapped. Martin and Tim stared at him. “...Point taken. Sorry.”

“It’s alright. Permission to touch?” Martin asked, holding out an arm. When Jon didn’t feel great, their touch aversion got worse. Martin was extra careful then, often using a phrase he’d heard in some war movie ages ago. Jon nodded, stepping into Martin’s reach. Martin pulled them close and kissed them on the forehead. 

“Breakfast’s done.” Tim said, getting 4 plates out of the cupboard. “Living room or kitchen?”

“Living room’s fine.” Jon answered, pulling away from Martin to get butter for the toast.

Martin poured 4 cups of tea. Tim put a slice of toast on each plate along with a healthy portion of eggs. Jon buttered each piece of toast. Tim opened the cutlery drawer, taking a fork for himself and handing one to each of his boyfriends. They each took a plate and a mug and headed out to the living room.

“Plate’s in the kitchen, Sasha!” Tim called as they passed the bedroom.

“Thanks!” She replied.

Jon sat in the armchair. Martin sat cross legged at one end of the couch and Tim sat at the other with his back to the arm, resting his legs across Martin’s lap. Martin put on some music to fill the silence while they ate. Sasha came in a few minutes after they did.

“Hey, what was all that about?” She asked as she made her way over to the couch. Jon rolled their eyes.  _ Great, another scolding _ .

“I didn’t get much sleep last night.” They grumbled.

Tim slid closer to Martin to give her room to sit on the couch. She sat and Tim leaned back against her shoulder. 

“1 hour.” He whispered over his shoulder to her.

“One hour!”

“Yes, yes, we’ve established this already. I need to take care of myself and I didn’t sleep enough and everyone is disappointed in me and dreading spending the day with someone all cranky and tired.” Jon ranted, closing their eyes and pinching the bridge of their nose.

“Feeling a little dramatic, are we?” Sasha teased. “Hon, I know you don’t want people to be worried about you but we can’t help it. We care about you. If someone else was treating you so poorly they’d probably be dead within the hour.”

“Minutes.” Tim nodded.

“We’re not dreading spending time with you either. I mean- will you even let us? You’ve been working non-stop lately. I feel like we’ve barely even seen you.” Martin added.

“I-” Jon started, caught off guard. They’d expected to be chastised, not comforted. “There’s just- There’s so much to do.” Exhaustion bled into their words.

“We know, Jon. But you don’t have to do all of it.” Sasha replied gently.

“There’s no rush, either. We have time. It doesn’t all have to be done at once.” Tim added.

“But it does-not all of it, but...I have to know what’s going on. Something is clearly not right and I don’t know how to fix it but if the answer is in one of those statements then I have to find it.”

“The answer to what? Jane Prentiss?” Martin asked.

“Yes. And no? I mean of course keeping you safe is constantly on my mind but there’s more here than that. I-I don’t know  _ what _ , but I’m-I-” Jon took a breath, looking down at their hands and trying to calm down enough to be able to form a sentence. “I need to figure it out. I don’t think any of us could be safe until I do.” He looked up. His partners were listening intently, their concern displayed across their faces. Sasha and Tim looked...almost guilty? Jon had no idea what that was about. They sat in a heavy silence.

“ _ We _ have to figure it out.” Martin said.

“What?”

“ _ We _ have to figure this out. Together. I mean that’s  _ literally _ our job description.” He chuckled.

“We can pick up more of the work. The important stuff, I mean.” Sasha suggested. “We can focus on the statements that have to go on tape instead of wasting time with the other ones.”

“Yeah, there’s a pretty clear dividing line between the ones that are...different.” Tim agreed. “We can leave the others to be looked into when we’ve got this all sorted.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Jon said softly.

“You don’t have to do this on your own.” Sasha reiterated.

“I-Thank you.”

“Of course.”

“And that goes for everything, okay? If you need help, you can ask for it.” Martin added.

“Says Martin ‘Bottle-It-Up’ Blackwood,” Tim teased.

“Hey! I- Well-” Martin tried to argue.

“We’re all guilty of it, Tim ‘Uses-Humour-As-A-Coping-Mechanism’ Stoker.” Sasha cut in. “Let’s just promise to be more open from here on out. Alright?”

Her partners all muttered their agreement, embarrassed at being called out.

“Alright, good.” Sasha smiled, content. 

“This has been a nice little chat, but if we don’t want to be late for work we should probably finish eating.” Tim said, checking his watch. “Don’t want Double-Boss breathing down our necks.”

They finished their breakfast with a much lighter conversation, leaving for the Institute in high spirits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was only supposed to be 2 chapters but then i added the breakfast convo and wellllll its gonna be 3 so stay tuned lmao also high spirits get it because they work in a supernatural research centre hahahah-


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim and Sasha shenanigans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nsfw implied? nothing explicit, just some smoochin and a conveniently placed break in the chapter... also when the songs come up im imagining Le Velo Pour Deux by The Brobecks, then Would You Be So Kind by Dodie, then Go Your Own Way by Fleetwood Mac, then Dasher by Gerard Way (subject to change lmao) but feel free to imagine whatever you want :)

They had gotten in around seven. Tim and Martin had spent the day going through boxes of statements and picking out the “different” ones while Sasha had continued research on one of the cases they had been working on the day prior. They didn't get very far, as there were a _ lot  _ of statements and very few “strange” ones. They did, however, feel like they were finally on the right track. Jon worked on recording the “real” statements and trying to sort through the statements they’d already done.

When they got back to Jon’s flat, he had gone straight to his study to continue working. His partners decided to leave him alone until bedtime. They knew he was excited to finally be getting somewhere. They made dinner together, leaving Jon a plate before they settled in for a movie. When the movie was finished, Martin left to read a book in the bedroom. 

“So.” Tim said.

“So.” Sasha repeated.

“Martin’s gone off to read, and we still have an hour or so until we have to get Jon to bed.” Tim said.

“Mhm,” Sasha replied thoughtfully.

“What are we going to do with all this time?” Tim asked dramatically, flopping backwards to lie with his head against the arm of the couch. He had one leg up on the couch cushions and one foot on the floor, lying with his left hand under his head and his right on his chest.

“Hm, I dunno. Maybe we should clean up the place a bit.” Sasha suggested, feigning ignorance.

“Well, I mean, we  _ could _ do that…” Tim shrugged.

“Do you have any better ideas?” Sasha asked playfully.

“One or two…” Tim said. He held out his right hand to her, which she took. He pulled her closer so she was lying on top of him, propped up on his chest. She laughed softly, resting one arm on his chest and sliding her other hand into his hair. Tim slid his right hand down to rest on her waist, tilting his head up to close the distance between their lips. She leaned back, out of his reach.

“Something wrong?” Tim asked. Sasha hummed in thought. “Sasha,” Tim whined. She laughed.

“No, I’m just trying to annoy you.” She gave him a quick peck. He leaned up to kiss her again, and she pulled back. He tried to glare at her, but he couldn’t hold back his smile.

“Please?” He asked sweetly.

“That’s more like it.” She grinned, kissing him again. She let her lips linger this time. He pushed forward to deepen the kiss but she pushed down with the arm on his chest, leaning away with a laugh.

“Oh come on!” He laughed, exasperated. She played with his hair, biting her lip to try to suppress her grin. It was hard to be irritated when she looked so cute. “Would you like something?” Tim asked.

“No, I’m alright.” Sasha offered him nothing. Tim sighed. If he was being honest, he was content to just look at her. Sasha returned the look, considering.

“What is it?” Tim asked.

“Nothing.” She replied. They stared at each other for a moment.

“Babe, I’m going to go make a sandwich if you’re gonna keep this up.”

“A sandwich?” Sasha laughed.

“Gotta do something with my mouth!” He shrugged.

Sasha grinned down at him.

"Well, if it's as serious as all that…"

"Oh, it is." Tim nodded gravely. Sasha closed her fist tight in his hair. A small noise escaped his lips. Tim chuckled softly, biting his lip. He waited for Sasha to initiate the kiss this time. He didn't have to wait long.

* * *

Tim held one end of the towel in each hand, flipping it up over Sasha’s head and letting the middle fall against the small of her back, using it to pull her close. She wrapped her arms around his neck, giggling. Tim grinned down at her, resting his arms around her waist and swaying.

“Can we get dressed before we slow dance?” Sasha laughed.

“Do we have to?” Tim groaned. Sasha hummed in thought.

“Well, if you’d ra-” She was cut off by a knock on the door.

“Could you two move this elsewhere? This flat only has one bathroom.” Jon called through the door. Tim and Sasha looked at each other for a minute before bursting out laughing.

“Sorry! We’ll be out in a minute!” Sasha yelled back.

Tim handed her the towel in his hand and dried his hair with the towel around his neck. Sasha slipped her glasses on and dried herself off, pulling on one of Jon’s shirts that he’d left in the room. Tim patted himself dry, hanging the towel on the back of the door while he slipped his button-up back on, not bothering to do up the buttons. He pulled on his boxers and grabbed the rest of their clothes as Sasha opened the door.

“Sorry, babe.” Tim said, ruffling his hair as he left the bathroom. Jon shoved his hand off, trying to fix his hair.

“Doing alright?” Sasha asked, kissing him on the cheek. The frustration on his face melted away.

“Yeah.”

“That’s good. Brush your teeth while you’re in there, you’re going to bed early tonight.”

“B-”

“We let you work the entire time we’ve been home. You need sleep.” Tim cut in. Jon looked like he was about to argue but he could tell from Tim and Sasha’s faces that this was non-negotiable. And, well, he was  _ exhausted _ .

“Alright.” he sighed.

“Thank you.” Sasha smiled. Jon nodded and shut the bathroom door behind him. Tim and Sasha dumped their clothes in the bedroom where Martin was still reading, playing soft music to help him concentrate.

“Hey, Mart-o. We talked Jon into going to bed early.”

“How on earth did you do that?” Martin put his book away.

“Luck?” Sasha asked

“I dunno, Sash. Kinda hard to say no to us when we look like this.” Tim said, gesturing for emphasis. Sasha and Martin laughed. “Do you wanna join us?” Tim asked.

“I mean, I  _ was  _ going to stay up and read for a bit longer but how can I resist?” Martin teased.

“You jest, but I mean look at that.” Tim said, cupping Sasha’s face in his hands. Sasha giggled, pulling him in for a kiss by his unbuttoned shirt.

“You’re not so bad-looking yourself.” Sasha patted him on the chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck. They swayed back and forth to the music.

“Want in?” Sasha asked, peering over her shoulder at Martin.

“I’m kind of enjoying the view,” He grinned. He picked up his phone and scrolled, looking for something different. He put on a song that was a little more upbeat, almost swing. Sasha raised her eyebrows. 

Tim removed his left hand from her waist, holding it out for her. She took it, sliding her other hand down to rest on his shoulder. There was more movement in their dance, their hips and shoulders moving to the beat, their feet falling carefully on the carpet. Tim spun his giggling girlfriend, dipping her as the song ended. Sasha looked at Martin upside-down, breathless and laughing. 

“More like that!”

“Yes, ma’am.” Martin grinned, putting on another with a similar tempo. Tim pulled Sasha back upright. Sasha twisted her hips to the music, Jon’s shirt swishing around her. He always did wear shirt that were far too big for him. She closed her eyes and smiled, nodding along. Tim sang along, letting go of Sasha’s hand to dance by himself. Sasha moved closer to Martin, who was still seated on the bed.

“No, I-” Martin protested. Sasha held her hands out towards him, still moving to the beat. She moved closer still, opening her eyes and grinning at him.

“C’mon,” She insisted, dragging out the word. Martin sighed and took her hands. As much as he hated dancing, he couldn’t say no to her. She beamed, pulling him around, guiding him through the motions. He was a little awkward, blushing heavily. It was incredibly endearing.

Jon hesitantly peered into the doorway. Tim saw them and rushed over before they could leave. When they were sober, they were worse about dancing than Martin. Jon saw him coming and their eyes widened. They turned to leave but Tim caught their hand. They weren’t getting out of it that easily. Tim pulled them in, holding their waist.

“Relax, boss!” Tim teased. “Like this,” He led, using the hand placed on their waist to help them follow. They tried to pull away but Tim held them fast. They resigned themself to their fate. Seeing Martin dancing with Sasha helped. He was clearly having a lot of fun, even if he did look a little self-conscious. They focused on their own movements, which were incredibly stiff and clumsy compared to Tim.

“Ease up!” Tim laughed.

“I’m trying!” Jon protested.

Mercifully, the song ended before Jon could embarrass themself too much. A softer, slower song came up next. Tim pulled Jon closer. Jon rested their head on Tim’s chest, wrapping their arms around his neck. Tim rested his chin on top of Jon’s head.

Sasha tucked her head into the crook of Martin’s neck, one arm around his shoulders and the other held in his.

The four of them swayed slowly to the song, content in the warmth of their partner’s arms. As the song ended, Martin pulled away to turn off the music.

“Think that’s enough for tonight.”

“If you insist,” Tim sighed, slipping out of his shirt. He climbed into bed, holding out his arms to Sasha. She joined him, pulling Jon with her. Tim and Jon rest their heads on her shoulders, Tim slinging an arm around her waist after he carefully removed her glasses and placed them on the bedside table. Martin turned out the light and slid in on Jon’s other side, holding them close. They rested a hand on his face, letting their legs rest on top of his. 

After a soft chorus of “good nights”, they slowly drifted off, one by one, until the only sound in the room was their soft breathing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was funnn even if it did end up being way longer than expected lmao (also please forgive any awkward descriptions i cant dance to save my life)


End file.
